Melting

Being the first, it was not a real love–
fifth grade training wheels
for what would come in sixth grade.

And had I known then how to turn off
that ache, seventh grade would have seemed
quite comfortable, despite that clear-skinned Latino.

Patterns already developed, 9th grade
found aloha love with the Hawaiian, but by
graduation’s sunset, the world expanded.

Bronze, brown, dark chocolate,
Europeans and Asians, equal delight.
The men no different from the boys.

Stealth Native blood finally warmed mine,
Eagle feathers and turquoise tease.
No shock I love the wolf and warrior.

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